Tradition: Christmas Style
by ManlyFashion
Summary: It's Christmas, and Wes has to explain some things. W/F Sequel to Tradition


Tradition: Christmas Style  
By Vengeance Girl

  
  
**DISCLAIMER**: In the alternative world where anthropology is "like, snails and stuff", and Alyson Hannigan gives me prophecies in dreams (ones that come true, anyway), I own all these characters. Surprisingly, it ain't this one!  
**SPOILERS**: None, its pretty much standalone as far as the show goes, although it *is* a sequel to, and relies quite heavily on "Tradition", one of my other fics.  
**SUMMARY**: It's Christmas, and Wesley has to explain a few things.  
**PAIRING**: Wes/Fred  
**FEEDBACK**: Please! To rach@wholenew.deep-ice.com  
**DISTRIBUTION**: The usual places, you know who you are. Anywhere else, please ask :-) I don't bite!  
**AUTHORS NOTE**: Thank you lots to my Technical Advisor Regina (in other words - she explained Christmas!) and my other advisor-y person, Selina, for telling me my descriptions of all the British stuff makes sense!  
  
****   
"Wesley?" Fred called up the stairs. "Are you nearly ready? We're gonna be late ..."  
  
"I'll be there in a second." Wesley shouted back, part of his reply muffled by a fit of coughing. Fred smiled to herself as she looked in the mirror and finished putting in her earring. She smoothed down her new dress, and was just about to shout for Wesley again when she heard a loud bang from upstairs, followed by Wesley's voice floating down the stairs.  
  
"It's okay, it's okay, I'm okay!"  
  
"Wesley, what the hell are you doing?!"  
  
He appeared at the top of the stairs, his hair ruffled, triumphantly clutching a box under his arm. "Found it. I'm ready to go!"  
  
"At last! Cordelia will be thinking we aren't coming!" As he came closer, she realised that while he'd been perfectly clean and well groomed when he disappeared upstairs, he wasn't so now. "Wesley!" she wailed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look at you! You're all covered in dust!"  
  
He looked down at his shoulders. "Oh, so I am! I hadn't noticed."  
  
She sighed, and started to brush him down with her hands. While her hands were otherwise engaged, he grabbed her around the waist and pushed her up against the wall with a grin.  
  
"Hey! Wes, my dress! You're gonna get it all dirty!" Suddenly remembering that the dress had cost him the better part of a thousand dollars, he pulled away, laughing.  
  
"I'll go wash my hands. It'll take five minutes." Handing her his precious box, he headed into the kitchen. "Don't let me forget it!"  
  
"Maybe if you tell me what it *is* …" she muttered. She examined the box, which itself was covered in dust. Grabbing a tea towel from the radiator, she dusted it down. "Christmas crackers," she read. "Wesley, Cordelia told me she was making all the food herself, and we weren't to bring any." Wesley emerged from the kitchen, looking much cleaner and tidier, and ready to go.  
  
"It's not food, I'll explain later." Snatching his keys from the table, he opened the front door. "Come on," he grinned. "We're going to be late."  
  
****   
"Cordy, could you please pass the peas?" Cordelia did so, watching in bewilderment as Fred managed to pack away yet more food.   
  
"How do you do that?" asked Angel, mystified. "I'm sure I could never eat that much in one go even when I *did* eat."  
  
"It's a gift," she replied, between bites.  
  
"Don't forget we still have dessert to go. I made ... okay, I bought ... a chocolate pie."  
  
"Ohh, God, please don't mention food again." Cordelia looked at Wesley, who had turned a nasty shade of green. Not that there's a good shade of green for a person, she reminded herself.   
  
"If you're going to be sick, you know where the bathroom is. I just had these carpets cleaned." Taking a swig of the beer Cordelia had ordered in especially for the occasion, he felt refreshed. Boddingtons always seemed to do the trick when he was feeling peaky.  
  
"You know, Cordelia, I'm ever so glad you invited us over."  
  
"Why? Because of my amazing wit? Delightful company?"  
  
"No, because it means I don't have to lie to my mother about why she doesn't need to send me a Christmas pudding."  
  
"I should be offended, but I'll let it pass. Instead I'm going to go with the obvious 'what's a Christmas pudding' question."  
  
Wesley started at her in disbelief. "You mean you don't know what a Christmas pudding is? I mean, I may despise the things, but still, it is part of the whole tradition of Christmas!"  
  
"Nope, not a clue. Fred?"  
  
"Me neither, I'm afraid."  
  
"Well I would say you haven't lived til you've tried one, but if my mother cooked it, it would be more fitting for me to say you won't live after you've tried one."  
  
"That's nice, honey, remind me never to let her cook for me, but still, what *is* a Christmas pudding?"  
  
"Well, it's ... I don't know how to explain what it is! It's a ... a ... it's a steamed pudding. All gooey, like a very heavy cake. It's very rich, has lots of fruit and nuts in it." He stared at their blank faces. "You know what? Never mind. Suffice it to say that it's disgusting, but a lot of people seem to like it."  
  
"So how come your mom sends you them if you hate 'em?" Angel spoke up.   
  
"She's very big on tradition. Everything has to be just right, as it's supposed to be."  
  
"So lie," responded Cordelia simply.  
  
"I usually do, but she sends them anyway. It's like she has some kind of radar or something. And especially now Fred and I are living together, she seems to want to turn Fred English."  
  
"Okay, that's enough of the wacky word of Wesley for today!" Cordelia spoke up. "How about we relocate and do the gift thing?"  
  
"But what about the pie?"  
  
"We'll get to the pie later, Fred. Don't worry, it's not going anywhere!"  
  
As Wesley and Fred moved over to the couch, Cordelia and Angel speedily cleared the table, and joined them.  
  
"It's a shame Charles couldn't be here. Would have been nice to have the whole gang together at Christmas." Fred sighed.  
  
"Yeah, but he wanted to spend the day with Anne. She couldn't leave the shelter." Wesley replied, moving his arm so that Fred could curl into him.  
  
"I know. It's just ... I kinda wanted everyone to be here today, y'know?"  
  
Cordelia set a tray of coffee town on the table. "So, what's in the box, Wes?"  
  
"Crackers."  
  
"I thought you were sick of food?"   
  
"Not crackers to eat, crackers to pull!" Wesley looked around at the blank faces that met him once again. He sighed. "Okay, look." Picking up the box, he pulled out six cardboard tubes wrapped in Christmas paper. He handed everybody one, and then held up his own to demonstrate. "Right. You see how the tube has been pinched in at each end, and then comes out again? As if someone had tightly tied a string around it?" They nodded. "Those are so you can grab them. One person grabs each end - Fred?" He held his out, and Fred obligingly took hold of the other end. "Hold it tight, and when I say pull - pull? Okay?" She nodded. "One, two, three - PULL!" Fred pulled hard, but years of experience gave Wesley the advantage. A loud bang came from the cracker, which was now split in two, Wesley with the majority of the tube. He peered inside it, and then tipped its contents into his hand.  
  
"Was there a point to that?" Cordelia asked, suspiciously, as Wesley unfolded a bright orange paper hat and placed it on Fred's head.   
  
"No, it's just fun. And another tradition." He unwrapped a small piece of paper, and groaned as he read it. "Unfortunately, part of the tradition are the awful jokes you find inside. What do you call a dinosaur with no eyes?" He read.  
  
"Doyouthinkhesaurus!" Angel yelled, excitedly. They all looked at him. "Hey, come on. You got all the food, you can at least let me have a little fun!"   
  
"What else do you have there?" Fred peered into Wesley's hand.  
  
"Oh, a bottle opener in the shape of a crocodile, it seems. God knows why these are so fun!" He gestured for the others to open theirs. For the next few minutes, Cordelia's apartment was full of shrieks as the gang pulled their crackers. By the time they were done, a small pile of junk had accumulated on the floor, containing a small pair of nail clippers, a plastic necklace, and a minute pack of playing cards. The jokes didn't get any better, but for some reason before long they were all giggling away.  
  
"Time for the gifts now." Cordelia stood up to go and retrieve the box of parcels in her bedroom, but Fred shook her head.  
  
"Do you mind if I go first? I have something for Wesley." Cordelia shrugged and sat down again. Wesley looked puzzled. "But we gave our presents this morning."  
  
"I wanted everyone to be here for this one. It's part - okay, most - of the reason I wanted Charles to be here, but never mind. She dug around in her purse and produced a small box, handing it to him. As she watched him unwrap it, she spoke nervously.  
  
"See, I guess this is kinda ironic, seeing as how today's been all about tradition, and I'm about to break one of the best known ones, but I figured today would be perfect, and almost everyone is here..." With one eye on the box, she waited until the split second before he opened the lid. "Wesley, will you marry me?" She blurted out. The lid of the box snapped open to reveal a slender gold band. "I wasn't sure what to get, because I didn't think you would want a diamond ring, and I was just going to get you a card or something, but then I didn't think that would be right, and-" She was interrupted as Wesley took her chin in his hand and kissed her. Pulling away, he smiled.  
  
"Of course I will."   
  



End file.
